


to bear the weight of these lovers' eyes

by cluelessclown



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: But whatever, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, so fluffy it might make you puke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 22:38:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8942149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cluelessclown/pseuds/cluelessclown
Summary: Three times Cassian made Jyn dance with him, and one he didn't.





	

**i;**

Cassian has never struck her as the dancing type. Or at least that’s until she sees him tiptoeing towards her, a tipsy smile on his face and his entire body showing off a strength that it hasn’t borne since before they left for Scarif. They hardly made it out alive, all of them — Chirrut and Cassian severely wounded, K-2SO in need of a serious reparation and Baze, Bodhi and Jyn in complete and utter shock. It has been a rough couple of weeks but, seeing that they have all recovered from their experience — in a physical way, at least —, a few members of the Rebel Alliance have decided to throw them a little party and let them enjoy themselves for the evening.

Jyn isn’t even sure if she is in the mood for a party at first, but her mood brightens when she sees Chirrut and Baze drinking together, the darker-skinned man making sure the other is completely all right and eyeing him carefully from time to time. Bodhi, back to his natural self and feeling far more at ease than the first time he was brought to the Rebel base, spends the evening chatting with her and Cassian, and occasionally with some of the other Rebels, who find his quirky anecdotes and comments on Krennic’s nose hair incredibly amusing. As for K-2SO, he contentedly mingles around the room, helping everyone to a drink and making a few witty remarks along the way. After being fixed and reprogrammed, he is almost back to his old self — except this time his voice is a little bit higher and his accent even thicker. But Jyn can live with that — she has had it much worse before.

“I believe Cassian is in what one would call a _state of stupor_ ,” the droid declares as the Rebel captain approaches them, a glass of Hoth Daiquiri in his hand.

“I can see why you’d think that,” she agrees, a smirk on her face as she adds, “Are you all right there, captain Andor?”

“Yes, yes I am!” he replies, in such a bright way that it even shocks her to think he is the same man who has saved her life — several times — and embraced her at the beach until the very last moment, thinking they were both just about to die. But then again, he _is_ a little bit drunk at the moment. “I was just wondering if you’d like to dance, Jyn Erso.”

Jyn’s eyebrows rise as Cassian offers her his hand, but she ultimately shakes her head lightly.

“I don’t really know how to dance. I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever _danced_ before, now that I think about it.”

“Ah, come on,” Cassian says. “It’s very, very easy. You just have to follow me — come on, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

Jyn glances around hesitantly and, after giving it much thought, she finally nods and even offers Cassian a small smile as she stands up. After all they’ve been through, thinking of him as a mildly happy, drunk man who is willing to dance with her makes Jyn realize that she doesn’t know Cassian Andor as much as she’d want to — but then again, they now have all the time in the world to get to know each other.

“So, how does this work?” she asks, her eyebrows rising as Cassian takes her to the improvised dance floor.

“Ah, let’s see.” he says, tapping his chin. “I’d say your height won’t be an issue. I used to dance with my mother all the time, and believe me, she was much taller than I was at age five.”

Jyn resists the urge to purse her lips. Cassian has never really talked about his mother before — she guesses it is a side effect of his light drunkenness, but she still decides it would be better to ease the subject off.

“What’s wrong with my height?” she demands. “I’m perfectly average, captain Andor.”

“Not really, though. You’re sort of small, but that’s all right.” His accent becomes heavier as he speaks, which makes Jyn smile — she has heard him use spare words in his native language before, and she secretly adores how his face seems to relax when he is speaking the language he would always use as a child. However, her eyebrows rise yet again when she feels Cassian’s hand pulling her closer by the waist — so close, in fact, she feels her insides churn with something that seems oddly close to happiness. His other hand holds hers carefully, and he smiles down at her as the music changes to a softer, slower tune.

“All right down there, Jyn?” he asks, his thumb softly rubbing against her hip.

“Quite all right, Cassian.” she nods.

In a rather absentminded gesture, she places her temple against his chest, quietly feeling his heartbeat — just like she had back in Scarif. She closes her eyes and lets herself enjoy the feeling of her body against his, their feet moving around quietly as Cassian carefully takes the lead.

“You know, I used to dance a lot when I was a kid.” he murmurs against her hair, his scruff tickling her forehead lightly. “My mother and father used to dance all the time. I watched them while sitting on the kitchen table — my dad would play or hum an old tune and they would just dance around the room until their feet felt sore. They taught me a few moves, and we would always spend our evenings playing music and simply enjoying each other’s company. In a way, I’ve always associated dancing with happiness, or at least with people I really care about.”

Jyn glances up at him, only to find out that he’s already looking at her. His expression is nostalgic, but a smile slowly lights up his face when the young rebel stands on her tiptoes and hugs him, burying her face into the crook of his neck. She’s beginning to get snippets of his own life before they met, little by little — and she somehow feels like she could grow used to listening to anecdotes from his childhood, to slowly get to know the man that she already cares very deeply for.

“Well then,” she says, her nose rubbing lightly against his skin, “here’s to many more dances, Cassian Andor.”

Her smile broadens when she feels a gentle squeeze to her waist as Cassian’s lips brush against the back of her head and whisper into her ear,

“To many more dances indeed, Jyn Erso.”

…

**ii;**

Jyn has always had her head tilted up to the stars. It somehow reassured her as a child — to think that the universe, in spite of its breathtaking length, was full of planets she did not yet know and possibilities that could turn her future upside down. Now, slightly older and very possibly wiser, she still star-gazes as much as she can — but she now knows that it is not the stars that can change one’s life, but certain individuals that are worth travelling the entire galaxy for.

And it is on a warm night, pointing out the brightest stars in the horizon as they sit together, a couple of miles away from the base, when she truly realizes Cassian Andor is exactly that to her.

“Hey, look at that one,” he says, narrowing his eyes as he points at a particularly bright luminous body just above the constellation they have been arguing about a moment before — Cassian says it’s none other than the Grapid constellation, whereas Jyn argues that it _clearly_ is Saphis — and smiles broadly. “That’s not an actual star! It’s just Coruscant. See?”

“Hmpf. You might be right, captain Andor.” Cassian offers her a small smirk, and she elbows him in response. “Don’t get too cheeky, though.”

“All right, all right.” His hands rise in defeat, but a moment later he props himself up from the floor and offers her his hand. “Come on, we’ve already figured out tons of stuff about constellations and stars and whatnot. I have an idea.”

“There isn’t much more to do right now, Cassian. It’s late, and K-2SO might go berserk if we suddenly pop up to say hello in the middle of the night.”

“Nah, we don’t even need to leave this place. I like it. I just want to do something different.”

“Like what?”

“We could dance, for example.”

Jyn’s eyebrows rise in a somewhat amused gesture. “But there’s no music, Cassian.”

“That’s just some minor inconvenience,” he counters. “Come on, just stand up. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“All right, all right.” she mimicks the rebel’s gestures from a moment ago, and stands up with a curious gesture on her face. “So what do we do now?”

“Well, my father used to sing a lot of songs when I was little, and I can still remember a few of them,” he says. “They’re in my language, of course, but they’re pretty upbeat, if that’s all right.”

“I think that’s quite all right, yes.”

And so he takes her hand and pulls her close — closer than they had been the first time they danced together, if that’s possible. But instead of slow-dancing, he just smiles one of those honest, bright smiles that make Jyn’s stomach flop and starts humming to a rather fast song in a language that she doesn’t understand at all. She lets him swirl her around, show her a couple of steps and shift back and forth as the song continues, and she smiles at how his voice subtly changes when speaking his first language, how he pronounces every word delicately, and how his brown eyes shine just a little bit brighter when he realizes she’s actually having a pretty good time.

At some point, Cassian can’t seem to remember any more songs and they just swirl together, quietly and absentmindedly, until they’re facing each other again, a lopsided grin on his face and a wholehearted smile on hers. He quietly studies her freckles, and she observes his big brown eyes and tries to memorize every single detail in his face.

“You know, Jyn,” he says quietly, placing his thumb against her cheek and tracing small lines between her freckles. “We’ve been gazing at stars all night, but I feel like the most beautiful constellation I’ve ever seen is just inches away from me.”

And suddenly he’s kissing her, tenderly, barely brushing his lips against hers. And she kisses him back, willingly, lovingly, and then they just dance and kiss and smile a little more, because home is not always a place, but a person — a person who will dance barefeet to the songs of your childhood or a person who will be willing to star-gaze with you all night and yet would rather spend the rest of their life memorizing the constellations in your face.

 

**iii;**

Months go by, and the Rebellion grows stronger. There are rumours of the Empire weakening, and that one of the kids who always hangs around Leia Organa is actually Darth Vader’s child. As it turns out, both the boy and the Alderaan princess are, but that doesn’t stop the Rebellion — if only, it makes their cause stronger. Jyn and Cassian have both met them a couple of times, but since they are posted at the intelligence office they usually spend their days trying to figure out how to break into Empire-dominated areas, obtaining economic information or getting K-2SO to be nice to the new recruits.

In a way, they have fallen into a routine — and Jyn enjoys it, because there has been no such thing as order in her life before, and she really appreciates having a comfortable bed to sleep in and, most importantly, someone to sleep with. The thought that Cassian would always ask her how her day has been and whether she was feeling okay still makes her feel a little light-headed, but most of the days she just smiles and nods. Because the feeling in her gut at the sight of him is enough to make most of her worries go away.

She has always known love, at least in a vague way. She remembers her parents embracing each other in bed until she hopped in every morning, how her father would tell her mother that everything was going to be all right, and how they just sat together by the fire and mumbled loving words to each other when they thought she was asleep. But she has never experimented it herself before Cassian — the urge to be with someone, to hold them close, to just know they’re there. In a way, they find a peace in loving each other that nothing else in the galaxy could have brought them.

She also gets to know a lot about Cassian over their first months together. She soon learns he can cook — better than her, anyway — but that he’d very much rather spend their free evenings eating good old tavern food and drinking spice beer. He likes bright yellow things — though he will deny it under questioning — and he usually scratches his scruff when he’s nervous. He is fluent in three languages and can understand at least five, and he used to bake with his mother when he was little. She could make a list with all the little things she has learned about him and still discover more every day.

That’s why she laughs when he asks her to be his date to Bodhi’s birthday. His _date_. To one of their closest friends’ _birthday_.

“What?” he asks. “I just wanted to know, Bodhi said he’s met this group of girls from Naboo at the Military branch who know how to play actual musical instruments. It’s going to be quite the refined party, you know.”

“Shut up,” she smirks, shaking her head. “I don’t think Chirrut has asked Baze to be his _date_ to this birthday.”

“He doesn’t need to, because they’re pretty much married, J.” he deadpans, poking her in the ribs. “Anyway, we should really get going. I can’t let Kaytoo arrive there first, because he’s totally going to pester me about it for the rest of the evening if he does.”

“Well then, let’s get going.”

She actually has to hold back a grin at the sight of Cassian tousling his hair in front of the mirror, mumbling “that bloody droid” to himself as he does so.

…

They arrive two minutes earlier than K-2SO — which would have made the droid frown if he had had eyebrows of any sort. The party is quite intimate but fun nevertheless — the three of them greet Chirrut and Baze and chat with them for a while, as neither of them have been able to grow used to living under the Rebellion’s protection and ended up moving back to what once had been Jedha, in an attempt to get their lives together again. K-2SO makes a series of rather insistent remarks on how absolutely boring it is to be surrounded by human couples while fake-drinking an Alderaan beer, which has been brought over by one of Bodhi’s fellow pilots, who was born in the now destroyed planet.

Bodhi himself joins them a little later. He is in a brilliant mood and thanks everyone for coming over, and even makes Baze snort with one of his stories about how he nearly died piloting his brand new X-Wing on a dozen different occasions. Jyn loves it when the six of them come together — it doesn’t happen that much anymore, but she has grown very fond of the three men and droid that joined her and Cassian in Scarif what felt like ages ago.

There’s even some music, just like Bodhi promised. Cassian looks at her, an amused expression on his face, and she shakes her head repeatedly.

“Oh, no. Not the dancing thing again.”

“Yes, the dancing thing again,” he counters. “Come on, I know you love it.”

“Gosh, Cass…”

But in the end, she does let him take her hand and pull her closer. She has grown used to feeling his body against hers, but the smile on his face and the warmth of his hands on her waist still makes her stomach churn. He starts dancing in a rather comical way, making her spin around several times and trying to make up their movements as the music continues. Jyn can hear Baze’s amused chuckles and K-2SO’s comments on how they sort of resemble a pair of happy ducklings more than a human couple, but she just smiles and follows Cassian’s lead — as ridiculous as it is.

The next song is a slower one, and so Cassian grabs her by the waist again, a lopsided grin on his face as Jyn rubs her thumbs against the nape of his neck.

“Funny how we’re at war and still manage to dance so much,” she whispers.

“Yes, that’s true.” he nods thoughtfully and then, just like every time he’s getting nervous, he scratches his scruff. “But the war won’t last forever.”

“No, that’s for sure,” she agrees, although his nervous gesture sets her off somehow. “Cassian, are you all right?”

“I — well, yes, I’m all right, don’t worry.” Jyn’s eyebrows rise at the sight of what seems like a sheepish smile on Cassian’s face. “I was just thinking. Since the war won’t last forever, we — we’ll have to figure out what we want to do when the Rebellion isn’t necessary anymore. If we win the war, obviously, which we will, because —”

Jyn nods quietly, as though telling him to focus on what he was saying before, because she feels like she knows what he wants to say. “Keep going, Cass.”

“What I mean is, uh — it’d be nice if we could go live elsewhere, someday. Just the two of us.” he splutters. There’s a small smile on his face, and he twirls her around to the rythm before she can answer.

Jyn smiles quietly at the thought of the two of them living together, someday, somewhere, away from the war and the Rebel Alliance and the idea of losing each other.

“Yes,” she whispers against his neck. “That sounds really nice.”

His smile broadens and, instead of twirling her around once again, he pulls her close and presses a kiss to her forehead.

It is a really amazing feeling, indeed — being able to see past tomorrow, to vaguely conjure up the idea of a future with someone else by your side. And so they just keep dancing, smiling, snorting at K-2SO’s little dance moves and whirling through the room for the rest of the evening.

And so for the first time in her life, Jyn feels like she could dance and dance until the very last day of her life. And in a way, that’s exactly what she does.

 

**iv;**

“Lyra, come on, your dish is almost full.”

“I’m not hungry, Mummy.”

“Come on, sweetie, just a few more bites. Doesn’t this breadroot patty look _super_ yummy?”

“Cass, you did not just use the word ‘yummy’, did you?”

“Come on, it’s a cause of _force majeure_. She’s almost there.”

“ _Force majeure_. I’m leaving this house, and Lyra and her breadroot patty are coming with me.”

The banter between her parents sets Lyra into a fit a giggles. Cassian, sensing that there is no way to make their daughter finish her food, sighs heavily and lifts her up from her seat, chuckling silently as she starts clapping to a lullaby he usually sings her — the song his mother sang when he couldn’t sleep, back when he was as small as Lyra is right now.

Jyn smiles at the sight of the two of them giggling together. Lyra takes after her father in her darker skin and big brown eyes, but her hair and complexion are her mother’s — Jyn can sometimes recognize her own smile in the crinkles of her daughter’s mouth, or her own laughter when Cassian tickles her right before going to sleep or while she plays with her little Jedi action figures. It used to scare her — to think she resembled both of them so much, and that they could lose her or she could lose them any moment. But she has slowly grown used to feeling safe, with the three of them spending their days together while the Republic slowly reconstructed itself.

“Mummy, Daddy,” Lyra says, her voice still a childish mumble. “Are you going to dance tonight?”

She snorts and nods a little. “Yes, I think your father would like that.”

“Sure I do!” he exclaims happily. He carefully places Lyra on top of the table and, before he can even open his mouth, he raises his eyebrows at the sight of Jyn offering him her hand.

“Care for a dance, Captain Andor?” she asks, a funny smile on her face.

“You know, you’ve never actually asked _me_ to dance.”

His smile broadens and, although she still feels how her stomach flips with happiness at the sight of his face all lit up, she just says, “Well, now I have. Will you?”

“Of course, Sergeant Erso.”

And so he grabs her hand and lets her pull him close, humming to a song he has taught her over the years. Lyra claps enthusiastically and watches how they swing and move at once, her curious brown eyes flickering at the sight of her father’s more complex moves and her mother’s smile whenever she can’t follow his steps and simply watches how he goofily shows off in front of their daughter. Jyn loves how fatherly he is — in a way, he reminds her of her own father, who used to tell her stories about enormous spaceships and fantastic heroes who saved the galaxy. Cassian’s stories are told through his songs, the hums of a distant land that was once his home — and they sound just as enthralling as her father’s used to.

She quietly thinks of what Lyra will get to know about them when she grows up. She’ll know that they met in the war, that they barely survived but that they somehow managed to make it through together. She hopes her daughter will never have to know the fear they all went through until the Empire was defeated — the fear of not knowing if they were going to make it past that day, or the thought that their loved ones were the ones who would not make it, which felt even worse. She hopes Lyra gets to grow up happy and loved, but she also knows that is due to happen as long as she and Cassian are around.

“You know,” she whispers, her forehead resting on his shoulder as they dance together, kind of waltzing to Lyra’s claps. “I sometimes wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t managed to make it through Scarif.”

She feels a kiss on top of her head and his arms pulling her just a little closer. “In all honesty, I think I wouldn’t want to know what not spending a lifetime with you feels like.”

“Strange, I’d say.”

“ _Very_ strange. But that’s nothing that we should worry about — we have a lot of dancing and force-feeding to do for the moment.”

She can’t help but snort at that. Once again, Cassian’s right — she doesn’t know what would have happened in another life, but she most definitely does not want to know. She’s still wrapping her head around the idea of being surrounded by people who very genuinely care about her — but she’s getting there, and she’s enjoying every step of it.

And so she wishes for the music to never stop, for Lyra to keep clapping for the rest of her life, and for the hums that have somehow brought them together to keep going until their feet go sore from having danced together through the years that are still ahead of them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So yes, I really needed to write some fluffy fix-it because I couldn't handle the pain. Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
